


I Want to be the Rainstorm, Not the House of Cards

by abreakfrom_reality



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: Damon is a lil shit, F/M, angst with a side of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abreakfrom_reality/pseuds/abreakfrom_reality
Summary: Solange is a stubborn, angsty one trying to find her stride post-boarding the Andromeda Six.
Relationships: Calderon Lynch/Traveler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	I Want to be the Rainstorm, Not the House of Cards

She found as much comfort staring out into deep space as she did the sense of loss. An unfinished pastry gripped in her hand, Solange tried to make peace with how tiny she was compared to the rest of the universe. Her feet had carried her to the observatory room, away from the rest of the crew, and the quiet gave her time to think without worrying glances from Ryona or June. Once starring at her music box, willing memories to resurface had ended unsuccessfully, she’d made a stop in the mess hall for the now soggy pastry in her possession. She was a burden on the starship and the reality of the situation sat heavier than the dough curdled in her stomach. But she refused to go poking around, looking for something to do and running into Calderon would be a direct result of her quest to be helpful.

Bash had been tinkering with some hunk of junk, but the thought of oil and grime staining her clothes, coating her fingers and digging underneath her fingers was enough to make Solange decline. “Awww, but getting down and dirty is the _best_ part,” Bash had teased, twirling the wrench in his hand in a quick motion.

"Call me again when you aren't slicked in oil, and maybe we can talk," Solange laughed, rough edges softening for Bash. The engineer cleared his throat, glancing away as if taken off guard by the sudden lightness in her voice. Solange was always less rigid around Bash, and he wasn't the only one who'd noticed since the traveler had been onboard. "Is that a promise?" Bash winked, composure gathered and Solange stuck her tongue out in jest. It was as natural as breathing, a welcome reprieve from the dark clouds surrounding her head. The night with Calderon suddenly came back in full force though, and Solange couldn't help the scowl that took over her face. They'd seem to reach an unspoken agreement to avoid each other and speak nothing of the event that had transpired between them. The only problem was that the memory of Caldron's touch was seared into her skin and something she wouldn't forget anytime soon. She'd waken before him, watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and slipped back into her own bed.

Bash misunderstood her discomfort. "...Sol?" Bash looked at her, brows furrowed and Solange muttered, "Headache, sorry," before she left the engineer and said something she'd regret.

Back in the observatory, Solange stood to discard her food and make her way back to her room when she turned to find Damon silently observing her across the room. She startled and dropped the pastry, cursing when her heart rate shot up and Damon smirked at her distress. "You should pay more attention. You never know what dangers lurk around in the shadows." As if to prove his point, his smirk turned predatory, but the humor never reached his cold, calculating eyes. He stepped up closer to her, hands behind his back as Solange fisted her own. She wasn't in the mood, and anger radiated off her in waves. "Fuck. Off," she glowered, but Damon was unperturbed. If anything, he seemed emboldened. She watched him pull out one of his daggers and inspect it methodically as if he had all day. "So angsty," Damon tutted, further incensing the traveler. Her eyes fell on his twin dog tags he wore and Solange fantasized yanking them off his neck and whacking him with them. Her lips pulled into a saccharine smile and she crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "Hey Damon, you ever had a blade pointed at your neck?" Damon's brow furrowed, but Solange's voice was syrupy sweet. "I'm gonna assume the answer is yes, but it's in your best interest to assume one of these days I won't be at such a disadvantage."

Damon's face cleared, but he quirked an eyebrow, looking Solange up and down. His lips twitched and Solange put her hands on her hips, eyes blazing now. "We'll see how dark and threatening you are when I cut off your balls!" she snarled just as the medic and captain stepped in, drawn to the shouting. "Solange!" Ryona admonished while Damon laughed. Solange's eyes cut to Ryona, but not before catching the stormy gaze Calderon pinned on his first in command. "Oh, hey everyone, you're just in time to see Solange's kitty claws come out," Damon gestured to the traveler. "My claws are fucking bigger than your dick, I bet," Solange snapped back, feeling slightly guilty that Ryona had to listen to this exchange. "Both of you, cut it out," Calderon thundered. "Last I checked, you weren't on a break." Damon let out a melodramatic sigh. "Yes, _Commander_ ," he shrugged but Ryona pushed past him to inspect Solange who was red-faced and clammy.

“I thought I told you to take it easy,” the Tilaari fussed, resting the back of her hand against Solange’s forehead. It felt nice and cool and the coiled tension in her shoulders and legs relaxed. “I was until someone decided it would be funny to sneak up on me.” It was hard to turn her head to glare at the offending person with her face now cradled in Ryona’s hands. Solange heard Damon’s muttered remark and chuckle before he left the room, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of yelling back. “Solange…” Ryona began, and the traveler found it hard to look into her eyes. Disappointment would meet her, and something about the medic’s tone made her fidget in place. Someone cleared their throat, and Solange realized Calderon was still in the room. “I’ll talk to him,” was his gruff reply, and Solange couldn’t resist one more insult at Damon’s expense. “I think it’s time to find a new second in command before _I_ kick him off the ship,” she snipped and Ryona sighed. “Come, let’s make sure you don’t have a fever.” Solange was careful not to look at the captain as she was shuffled to the med bay for further inspection.

Aya and June came to visit Solange in her room later, a deck of cards in tow, but she was a poor conversationalist and they soon left her to nap. But Solange wasn't interested in sleeping. Before she could even consider sneaking out against Ryona's wishes, the door slid open, and Solange was saddled with more guilt. She let out a nervous snort of laughter when it was Calderon who appeared, and not the Tilaari. "You didn't have to step in back there. I could have handled Damon myself," Solange murmured, all her fight from earlier gone. "Well, it's my job to make sure you all don't tear each other to pieces." Her door slid shut as Calderon stepped in and regarded her thoughtfully. Solange tried not to squirm under his gaze, sitting up so he didn't tower over her so. Her body remembered the last time she'd been in such a position, and suddenly she couldn't look at his face anymore without wanting her lips on his.

"Why are you here?" Solange questioned her upturned palms, extending and flexing the fingers of each hand. She heard Calderon sigh, and she could easily picture his vexation, one perfect eyebrow furrowed over a sapphire eye that smoldered, unlike any gem she'd seen before. The bed dipped from his weight as he sat down next to her. "Do you enjoy being especially difficult?" he responded, and Solange laughed, a tired sound that took more effort than she realized. For once she'd like to get a good night's sleep. A loop of hair slipped from her bun, and she let it swing in her face until Calderon tucked it behind her ear. His hand lingered and she glanced up at him, unsure what to make of the gesture but grateful for his touch all the same. And suddenly his lips ghosted her forehead, soft but purposeful. And then he was pulling back far too soon. It was a simple acknowledgment, but it stirred something wild in Solange. She held her tongue, the urge to ask him to stay the night very strong. She would not beg him to stay, not until she figured out what the hell was happening between them. He turned to look at her one last time, gentle, and Solange committed the look to memory. "Stop provoking Damon, stowaway. I'm not going to break up every catfight you have."

Any warm, bubbly feelings she'd accumulated for Calderon instantly turned flat and she scowled at his retreating figure, following up with an obscene gesture he missed as the door slid closed. Solange flopped back onto her bed, angry again until her eyes slid over to her music box. New determination filled her and replacing the leaden weight she'd carried since awakening on the Andromeda Six. She picked up the trinket, weighing it in her hands. Her eyes flashed. "You had a past. You have a past. You _will_ remember.”


End file.
